


Golden Wings and Pearly Tusks

by OhBoyOrion



Category: DreamSMP, Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alpha Jschlatt (Video Blogging RPF), Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Beta Wilbur Soot, DadSchlatt, Fox Hybrid Floris | Fundy, Fox Hybrid Wilbur Soot, Hybrid Jschlatt (Video Blogging RPF), M/M, Minor Violence, No real names this is the characters!!, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omega Alexis | Quackity, Omega Phil Watson, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pack Dynamics, Parent Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Piglin Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Ram Hybrid Toby Smith | Tubbo, Slow Burn, Wilbur Soot and Technoblade and TommyInnit are Siblings, Winged Alexis | Quackity, Winged Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Winged TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), no smut (yet)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-25
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-16 09:27:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29698467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OhBoyOrion/pseuds/OhBoyOrion
Summary: The man is well over a foot taller than Quackity and twice his width. He's wearing a loose fitting white button up nightshirt and black sweatpants, and Quackity can see the faint outline of a tail flicking behind Technoblade. A messy bun holds long pink hair atop his head, yet a few stray strands frame his face, and do nothing to conceal the pig-like ears adorned with gold and jewels on his head. The tusks protruding from his mouth send a chill down his spine because he knows without a doubt that they could rip through his throat, and he finally looks up to meet the blood red gaze that burns into his skin, the only barrier being the thin pieces of glass in the wire frames in front of his eyes.Quackity realizes he’s been staring for a moment too long when the piglin gives a monotonous “What the fuck.”The words register, and Quackity looks at the phone connected to the charger in his hand, looks back at Technoblade, and says in the bluntest voice he can force, “I’m not sharing.”
Relationships: Alexis | Quackity & Jschlatt & Toby Smith | Tubbo, Alexis | Quackity & Phil Watson, Alexis | Quackity & Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Alexis | Quackity & Wilbur Soot, Alexis | Quackity/Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Other Relationship Tags to Be Added
Comments: 68
Kudos: 447





	1. Details

**Author's Note:**

> I'm bad at summaries, but I decided I wanted to write some kind of breeding Qnb fic, it was supposed to be short but now its already over 2000 words and I'm invested and came up with a whole plot so now its slow burn, babey!!! The first chapter was kinda my brainstorming for this fic, but it has some worldbuilding. I might make another part once this is finished but we'll see. I don't have a schedule for this, it may be very random, but God I'm determined to finish a single fic in my life, please. Fun fact, the aforementioned "first chapter" is titled "had to look up pig anatomy and pig orgasms for this, what the fuck man.", and the actual first chapter is titled "pig orgasm hell yea" even tho theres not even anything remotely nsfw in here yet hhhh.  
> did you know that pigs cum for up to five minutes? in one case it was recorded to be 90 minutes! I hate that I know this but this fact is literally what make me think "Qnb breeding kink"

Ok so I’m throwing together a few random headcanons and AUs into this fic, just so people aren’t confused about some of the content in here. As of writing this, it is not a series, but if I get more ideas (or suggestions) I may extend it! So let’s get started with worldbuilding.

This is all based on the DSMP characters, not the real people! Please don’t come at me, I’m projecting onto this series. The character ages are all over the place and not accurate to canon at all (because I can’t remember most of them lmao). It takes place in a kind of fantasy/modern universe, with a little A/B/O sprinkled in, but all the mobs and items and the Nether and The End and hybrids and all that fun shit still exists. There’s magic, but also technology, so you can use magic missiles AND shoot a gun! We love options here. My personal take on A/B/O is that it’s extremely uncommon for A/B/O traits to be found in humanoid species other than humans. “Male” and “female” really aren’t the important genders in this AU. There’s a fairly even distribution of males and females across every sex. Alphas have the usual peen and knot, but female alphas can possess both a peen and vag, though around 80% of the time there is no uterus. Betas usually have both sets, but around 50% of the time one or the other is non-functional. Betas with functioning peens can impreginate anyone with a functional vag, and anyone with functioning vags can be impregnated by anyone with a functional peen. Finally, our Omegas are the opposite of Alphas, they usually have a vag, though males sometimes have a peen, with the same functionality rate as female Alphas. The ratio of Alphas to Betas to Omegas is fairly even, though Betas are slightly less common than the other two. Full presentation of a persons sex happens anywhere between 16 to 20, though outliers can happen, but it’s not common. Heats and ruts are still a thing, and can happen as little as once a year to once a month, averaging around 4 times a year for most people. This is the peak of a person's fertility cycle, and is characterized by an elevated scent, raised libido, and overall out of commission state of mind during the highest points, though not all cognitive awareness is hindered (consent is important!!!). Severity of the heat or rut is affected by time between cycles; a longer gap means a stronger peak. I’ve decided for reasons that all sexes nest, not just Omegas, and somebody who hasn’t presented yet may go through what I’m calling a “nesting fit”. Somebody in a nesting fit will obsessively nest for a short period and want their favorite packmates to join them in a nice cuddle pile. Nesting together is a way of forming or welcoming people into a pack, and people can choose their packs as soon as they’ve perfected their nesting method. Anyone can leave a pack for any reason, be it personal choice, exile, or moving to their mates pack. Children not quite old enough to form their own packs together (must have at least 1 adult) form “promise packs”, packs they plan on officiating as soon as they’re ready to do so. Packs can be 100% platonic, 100% romantic, 100% sexual, or any mix of the 3, and can be as small as just 2 people. God I hope I didn’t forget anything.

Now for headcanons! So this will focus mainly on Techno and Quackity but other characters will be there. Techno is obviously mostly piglin hybrid. We love Technonudges and animal instincts in this house so we’re going all out. My personal hc for Techno is that he’s a Fairly Massive hybrid, like, 7 feet tall, 350 pounds, he’s got some chub, he’s not a sexy anime twink in my house, but other than that he looks pretty similar to any standard Technoblade design. Since he’s mostly piglin, he doesn’t have one of the 3 human sexes, he’s just a male piglin, and has a peen. Considering how large our man is, his peen is uh… quite sizable. RIP Big Q. Piglins go through a single mating cycle, with breeding season being throughout the spring. That’s when their instincts are telling them It’s Time to Reproduce. They’re not incredibly horny for 3 whole months, usually just for a week during those 3 months. It ends up being a rough time for Techno, he distances himself at the worst of it but can hold himself together fairly well when not being provoked. He still has a few piglin habits (nudges, piglin sounds, liking gold, protective but loyal). Techno was adopted into the SBI pack, though isn’t home often since he’s always off doing Techno things (I’ve decided that he’s a type of hunter, he kills monsters and gets paid for it. Also he fights competitively for money but his pack doesn't know). 

Next, Quackity is only part duck hybrid, he’s got nice pale brown wings, but the rest of him is fairly human. He’s around 5 foot 8 inches, 130 pounds, the typical Quackity design. The small amount of duck genetics means he likes to swim, but that’s about all. Because I have chronic horniness, he’s an Omega (I literally just came up with all of this so I could write a Qnb breeding fic, what more do you want from me). He’s newly presented and still trying to pin down what his cycle pattern is (yes this is important to the plot). His wings are big enough in this AU to actually fly, he just can’t carry more than his own weight. He joined Schlatts pack after presenting since Schlatt helped him through his first heat, and ended up staying When Schlatt developed an alcohol addiction (for reasons that may or may not get explained).

Phil is like a god but nobody really knows it. Large black wings with white speckles. Most assume he was born a bird hybrid but he really got the wings when he defeated the Ender Dragon. As such, he doesn’t really have any bird habits. He keeps his identity secret, only his pack knows his past. He’s 5 foot 7 inches tall, 150 pounds. Again, usual character design (aka some character from an anime). Don’t ask me where his mate is, I didn’t think of that answer, his only biological son is Tommy.

Wilbur is our Beta male :) fuck you. He’s got fox ears and a tail, with claws and fangs. Y’know that lil jump foxes do to dive into holes? He does that when nesting. His mate is a “secret” but really Phil and Techno know who it is (I won’t tell you but there will be context clues so you’ll figure it out). He’s 6 foot 5 inches tall, about 190 pounds, which gets him mistaken as an Alpha a lot.

Tommy. Baby, baby boy. I know nothing about children, I’m just guessing how children act. He screams a lot, gets into trouble, exactly how you’d expect baby Tommy to act. His wings are just white fluff still, but he’ll slap the shit out of somebody with them if he doesn’t get what he wants. He loves his Tubbo (like a brother).

Fundy is an even SMALLER baby boy! He has the same ears, tail, claws, and fangs as his father. I’m… not sure how I’m going to fit the trans Fundy canon into this but I’ll figure something out (trans Fundy make my trans brain go brrrr). He bites people and laughs just like a fox. Many pillows, toys, and pieces of clothing have been victim to his paws.

Tubbo is here too! He only has tiny bumps for horns but he can’t wait for them to be like his dads. I love the headcanon that he headbutts when upset, and also he’s terribly good at climbing. He loves his Tommy (like a brother).

Schlatt likes to act like a big mean Alpha but it’s an act, he’s soft for the people he loves (aka Tubbo, Quackity, and [ **_REDACTED_ **], mostly out of fear of being abandoned by people, so he tries to keep them distanced. Man is 6 foot 6 inches (yes he counts the 2 extra inches from the horns) and 250 pounds. Like Tubbo, he occasionally headbuts things, but is able to rein in his hybrid habits. He doesn’t talk about his previous mate, no matter how much Tubbo asks to know who his other parent is.

**Basic character info if you don’t want to read all that (sorted by packs)**

**SBI Pack**

Philza: Age unknown, bird hybrid (fuck if I know which kind of bird), Omega, pack leader.

Techno: 20 years old, piglin, adopted son of Phil.

Wilbur: 19 years old, fox hybrid, Beta, adopted son of Phil.

Tommy: 2 years old (BABYINNIT POG), bird hybrid, unpresented, Phils biological son.

Fundy: 1 year old, fox hybrid, unpresented, Wilburs biological son.

**Schlatt Pack**

Schlatt: 22 years old, ram hybrid, Alpha, pack leader.

Quackity: 19 years old, duck hybrid, Omega.

Tubbo: 3 years old, ram hybrid, unpresented, Schlatts biological son.

Uhm… I don’t have much knowledge on Sapnap, Karl, Bad, Skeppy, Eret, or other characters, I hyperfixated on SBI, Schlatt, and Quackity, whoops. I feel like I could probably write them well enough but please give me suggestions for their ages and packs!!!


	2. Good Days, Bad Days, and the Worst Days

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this fic was supposed to be a short smutshot but now ive made a plot and written 3000 words, help.

Another bottle, another day. At least, that’s what it  _ used _ to be. The number slowly increased as the weeks went on, so now Quackity has to pick up and throw out an assortment of beer cans and whiskey bottles almost daily. There are some days where the amount of alcohol consumed is only a glass or two, but those are on good days, which are few and far between. Those days are nice, when Schlatt is conscious enough to care for his own son, the son that loves him and looks up to him so much. On good days, Quackity wakes up and is able to see his pack Alpha play with his son, despite the headache that most likely pounds inside his skull. On good days, Schlatt picks up his own bottles, makes an effort to clean up a little (even if Quackity finishes it in the end). On good days, Schlatt helps Quackity preens his wings, and in turn, Quackity helps Schlatt groom his wiry hair and the fur on his fluffy ears. On good days, there’s a chance to see Schlatt laugh at his own shitty- sometimes offensive- jokes, a laugh that lights up his whole face, wrinkles the corners of his eyes, and makes him double over from how hard his cackles spill from his chest and mouth. He sings praises to his son over the smallest things on good days, cheering when Tubbo puts together a shitty Lego house by himself, complimenting yet another mess of colorful nonsense handed to him by tiny hands, sticky with still-wet paint. The pictures got hung on the fridge, and when the space on the stainless steel door ran out, they bought a cork board to pin the new ones on. 

On good days, everything is, well,  _ good _ .

On good days, it seems like there’s no bad days.

On bad days, Quackity smells the tension in the air before he even leaves his room. The tension that means a storm has been brewing in Schlatts mind for a bit too long, and he’s about to let it out on the only other adult member of his pack. On bad days, Quackity preens his own feathers, and occasionally accepts the assistance that Tubbo offers (he can't offer much; he's three). On bad days, there’s at least one new stain on the once-white carpet that connects the bedrooms to the living room. Sometimes it’s some drink that Quackity can’t be bothered to identify, and on a few occasions, it’s vomit, made of just bile and vodka. Only once was it blood, spilled when Schlatt knocked over his third drink of the morning (it wasn’t even noon), and he tried to pick it up himself in his inebriated state. When that specific stain didn’t lift, Quackity cut a hole in the carpet and stapled down a spare piece he found in the garage, leftover from when they first moved into the small house. On bad days, Tubbo comes to Quackity at night when he has a bad dream because he hates how his father smells by the time he's passed out on the couch.

Bad days aren't good days, but Quackity prefers bad days over the worst days. 

The worst days when bottles are thrown against the wall and poison flies like spit when Schlatt is screaming about the same bullshit he always gets this worked up about. Quackity doesn't bother to find out what that bullshit is; he takes Tubbo and leaves the house every time he sees Schlatt in the kitchen with his head in his hands and a sick combination of laughter and sobbing shaking his entire form. The first time Quackity saw Schlatt like that, he reached out and barely managed to utter a word, let alone touch the Alpha, before said Alpha whipped his head up and wrapped a cold hand around Quackity's wrist. The surprise from the sudden action caught him off guard, and he couldn't even bring his defenses back up before being shoved away hard enough to land on his ass. The look on Schlatt's face was something he never wanted to see again, filled with rage and sorrow and pain and the clear desire to beat the shit out of something- or somebody. Barely any remorse. Quackity was on his feet in a second, sprinting to Tubbos bedroom to grab the toddler and carry him out the window, his heart trying to claw its way out of his chest and blood spreading adrenaline through his veins, before the drunken ram hybrid could stumble his way down the hallway. A bruise in the shape of a much larger hand than his own was already formed on his forearm by the time Quackity was carrying a confused Tubbo down the street.

He's glad his phone was in his pocket, he doesn't want to spend the night outside on a park bench with a child that very clearly isn't his own. Quackity sits himself down, toddler in his lap, wrapping his wings around the two of them to keep out the nighttime chill. His hands are shaking, he realizes. Then he noticed the rest of his body shaking as well, and he knows it's not from the cold. How stupid can a man get, to pring himself and a pup out in the cold without a coat during the middle of winter? His breath rushes in and out of his chest while his own heartbeat makes the edges of his vision throb. Distantly, he wonders if Tubbo can feel it.

He pulls out his phone, scrolls through his contacts, and presses the green icon next to the only name listed under the “W” section. He bounces Tubbo on his knee while the line rings.

"Quacky?" He startles at the small voice, and looks down as a small hand touches his cheek, and Quackity realizes that Tubbo is wiping tears he hadn't even realized he was shedding. The wet eyes and trembling lip that stare at him makes something in his throat close up, and he does his best to start a comforting purr in his chest.

"It's okay, Tubbs, everything is gonna be okay," The tremble in his voice doesn't go unnoticed by the child, but he just nods and buries himself in the feathers surrounding him, attempting to keep his own small sniffles at bay.

He can't tell which one out of the two of them he's trying to comfort most as he repeats the phrase.

Right when the final ring is about to sound from the tinny speaker of the cheap smartphone pressed to Quackity's ear, the line clicks, and Quackity can't help the sigh of relief that washes over him at the voice that he hears.

"Quackity, it's eleven o'clock at night, what the fuck do you want?" The voice is annoyed, slightly groggy, and Quackity assumes his old friend had a long day trying to deal with the two toddlers in his own pack.

The laugh he forces out of his throat is as fake as the smile he tries to put on.

"Aw, c'mon Wilbur! _Mi_ _amigo_ , don't tell me you didn't miss me!" It's strained, shakey, and Quackity can feel the Beta on the other end of the line steel himself.

"Quackity, what's wrong?" The concern in his voice makes the Omega choke on a breath, and he shudders as he exhales slowly, trying to calm his breathing.

"I, uh- I'd rather not explain right now, it's- really, nothing too bad, I- I might have overreacted-" Quackity starts to ramble as the absurdity of the situation hits him. Schlatt seriously couldn't have wanted to hurt him, right? He was drunk, depressed, and probably would have stopped himself from doing anything too harsh! He was just misdirecting his anger, is all.

Quackity feels his own bitter doubt at the thoughts. Wilbur's voice breaks him from his own head.

"Where are you? I'm coming to get you- do you have Tubbo?" Wilbur always frets over the pup, despite not being in the same pack- Quackity assumes it’s just a thing all parents do towards all kids. The sound of shuffling and jingling keys filters through the phone, a whispered "I'll be back soon" directed towards somebody on his end, most likely his father, Phil.

Quackity takes a moment to look around, and cringes as he mutters, “I’m… a lot further from your house than from mine, you really don’t have to do this Wil-” he starts to close himself off, tries to convince himself he doesn’t need the help.

“Bullshit, it’s night time, there could be monsters in the area, and it’s freezing out! I’m tracking your coordinates, don’t move.” The call ends before a protest can make its way out of Quackity’s mouth, though he doubts Wilbur would have listened anyways. So he resigns himself to sitting on the cold metal bench, combing a hand through Tubbos soft brown hair, while he waits for Wilburs shitty ‘98 Volkswagen Beetle to sputter down the street. Quackity had teased him about jacking off his car when Wilbur had tried to convince him that manual was better than automatic. Wil blocked him for a week on all his socials.

After five minutes that seem to take an hour, Quackity hears the familiar engine fade indo hearing range, and he turns to see the Beetle through the young oak trees planted between the road and sidewalk. The drive shouldn’t have taken only five minutes, so some traffic laws must have been broken. He stands up and quickly walks to the passenger side. Tubbo remains in his lap, still clinging to his neck, and Quackity couldn’t bring himself to pull the toddler away from some much needed comfort. He shuts the door and shakes his wings out, trying to get the warm air to his chilled skin.

A moment of silence stretches between the Beta and Omega, before Wilbur gives a slightly awkward cough and inhales to speak, but Quackity cuts him off before he can even start.

“Please, let it wait til tomorrow, I’m fucking exhasted,” he doesn’t bother to censor himself, he noticed that Tubbo had fallen asleep at some point. His own head rests against the back of the seat, and his eyes drift closed, though he doesn’t let himself doze off.

“Right, uh, I’ll let you take my room for the night, my older brother is visiting, so his old room is now his again,” Wilbur shifts the car into gear as he says this, the entire vehicle jerking slightly, though his ears barely twitch at the disturbance.  _ Damned thing is gonna wake Tubbo _ , Quackity thinks to himself. 

He hums in agreement, too tired to refute, opening his eyes to stare at the passing street lights as he asks, “The piglin brother? From the Nether?” He’s never personally met the guy, only seen him in pictures displayed around Wilburs house. 

The Beta nods and gives a light laugh. “Who else? My only other brother is Tommy, and the little shit can’t even eat without making a mess! Never stops talking either, if you can even call his nonsense ‘talking’.” He has a fond look on his face as he talks about his packmates, and Quackity gives him a grin as he remembers Tubbo being the same way not even a year ago.

“Get used to it, man, as soon as Tommy starts to make sense, Fundy will start spewing the same shit. How is Fundy, anyways?”

From there, the conversation turns to them talking about the three pups, and how much they’ve grown in just a few years. Wilbur’s tail softly thumps on the seat the whole time. Soft laughter fills the car every few minutes, and for a short while, Quackity forgets why he has his pack leader's pup with him as he sits in his friend's car.

The conversation fades as they pull up to Wilburs house, parking next to the familiar gray SUV and the not-so-familiar red pickup truck. The house itself is nothing special, just two floors; the lower floor having the kitchen, dining room, living room, laundry room, and a small bathroom that doesn’t even have a bath or shower. Upstairs is the three bedrooms and full bathroom. The house is clean, but well lived in. Scuffed floors, marks and dents in the walls where chairs or tables were run into slightly too hard, and the furniture doesn’t match very well, but Quackity thinks the vibe fits the pack living there- the ones he's met, anyways.

When the two enter the living room, Phil looks up from the book he’s reading, and his wings ruffle in surprise at the other Omega bird hybrid in his house, but he quickly regains his posture and gives a warm smile to his son’s friend. Being the father he is, he gets up from his seat to properly greet Quackity, a brief mutual exchange of scent, before Phil wraps him and Tubbo into a hug after catching a whiff of faded distress. The comfort flooding Quackity’s entire body is immediate, and he hugs Phil back as a soft purr builds in his chest.

Phil pulls away after a moment, but keeps his hands on Quackity’s arms, careful not to disturb Tubbo, who still sleeps in his hold.

“Quackity, mate! It’s been a minute! It’s also quite late, what are you doing here?” The concern in his voice is another comfort, instead of an annoyance or something he wants to push away. Phil has just always had that effect on people. Quackity adjusts his hold on Tubbo as he begins to stir.

“A lot’s been happening at  _ casa de Schlatt _ , I needed to get Tubbo and myself out of there,” He’s reminded of how tired he is, and Phil notices too, because he doesn’t push him. He just gives a nod to the younger and steps back into his own personal space.

“Let me know if I need to teach Schlatt a lesson, God knows he’s caused enough problems,” Wilbur laughs humorlessly as Phil says this, and Quackity wants to ask what he means before Wilbur is tugging him upstairs, turning his head over his shoulder to tell his father, “No need for theatrics right now, It’s past everyone’s bedtime! Goodnight, boys!” Tubbo is fully awake at this point, and grumbles at the volume of his voice. Phil only responds with a chuckle, and sits back down with his book.

Quackity sets Tubbo down as they reach the top of the stairs, arms tired from holding him so long. The three walk in silence towards Wilbur's room, and Wilbur stops to open the linen cabinet and grab a blanket for himself before turning back to the stairs. Quackity is hesitant to enter Wilbur’s room, but the Beta gives him a light shove through the doorway.

“Sleep. I promise it’s no trouble at all. In fact, I think Tommy will be quite happy to see his friend tomorrow morning,” Quackity gives a soft thanks to Wilbur's reassurance, and is left alone with a cranky Tubbo as the taller man heads back down the stairs, turning off lights as he goes. 

Tubbo doesn’t quite question the situation yet, just jumps into the bed when the covers are lifted for him, and Quackity wonders for a moment how this pup ended up so different from his father. Maybe he gets it from his other parent. The curiosity is pushed down, it’s not something he wants to think about right now.

Quackity tucks Tubbo into the bed, taking a moment to remove his own blue hoodie and shoes, and crawls in next to him. He sticks his hand down between the bed frame and nightstand and successfully locates a charger for his phone, and he’s glad he won’t have to deal with it being dead in the morning.

He’s about to shuffle deeper into the blankets and put his phone down but stops as he hears heavy footsteps coming down the hall, and suddenly the door opens.

“Wil, do you have a spare charger? I left mine in my truck and I’m too lazy to-” The deep voice behind him stops, and Quackity turns to see an absolutely  _ massive _ figure in the doorway, staring at him in confusion. It registers in his mind that  _ this _ is Wilbur's brother, Technoblade, yet he can’t even say anything because he knew piglins were bigger than humans but holy  _ shit _ . The man is well over a foot taller than Quackity and twice his width. He’s wearing a loose fitting white button up nightshirt and black sweatpants, and Quackity can see the faint outline of a tail flicking behind Technoblade. A messy bun holds long pink hair atop his head, yet a few stray strands frame his face, and do nothing to conceal the pig-like ears adorned with gold and jewels on his head. The tusks protruding from his mouth send a chill down his spine because he knows without a doubt that they could rip through his throat, and he finally looks up to meet the blood red gaze that burns into his skin, the only barrier being the thin pieces of glass in the wire frames in front of his eyes.

Quackity realizes he’s been staring for a moment too long when the piglin gives a monotonous “What the fuck.”

The words register, and so do the previous ones, and Quackity looks at the phone connected to the charger in his hand, looks back at Technoblade, and says in the bluntest voice he can force, “I’m not sharing.”


	3. Hey, Check This Shit Out! -Gets A Crush-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow, im blown away at the support ive gotten for this!! i didnt think this many people wanted the kind of content im advertising here lol.  
> before we get onto the fic, id like to give some thanks to a few people specifically!  
> first, thank you to spoons, who suggested the title "golden wings and pearly tusks", its much more pleasing to hear than "qnb fic i dont have a title for please god please suggest something", and much better than literally any of the names of the docs i have on this fic.  
> next, thank you to Fujoshihardcorefan, who left 2 absolutely WONDERFUL comments on this, i literally cried as i read them bc wow. words cant express the gratitude i feel right now!!  
> finally, thank you to the Warehouse (discord server)! everyone there has been so supportive of me writing this, they were the ones who gave me the confidence to write and publish this. im so glad to finally have people willing to support my writing without judgement.  
> and thank you to anyone reading this right now! comments keep me going, tell me what ideas you have, how i can improve the story, or just guess and what you think is going to happen! youre all so kind, and i cant wait to have you all here while i write this fic!  
> enjoy chapter 2! <333

There’s a few tense moments of silence, and Quackity starts to think,  _ Should I have said that to a guy that could break my spine with his bare hands? _ He’s reminded of the pictures downstairs, displaying the younger versions of this pack, and he realizes the pictures must be several years old, because the piglin only a few steps away from the bed hardly looks anything like the face Quackity expected to see.

Technoblade had been gone for quite a while, then. From the few details that Wilbur gave, he left home at only 16, only visiting once every year or so. He wanted to be a hunter, to follow the steps of the man that raised him. And from the looks of it, he made a pretty solid living off of it, considering the jewelry he wore.

That, and the fucking  _ trident _ he has suddenly pointed to Quackity’s neck-  _ where the hell did that come from?!  _ Quackity has half a mind to not shriek at the new development in a rapidly changing turn of events. Impaled thrice (in a non-sexual way, unfortunately) by a really hot yet threatening man is  _ not _ how he wanted to die. He hadn't even gotten a proper mate yet! The situation really needed to be sorted out, and  _ fast _ . So Quackity does what he always does when cornered: attempts to make the situation humorous.

“H-Hey!  _ Santa mierda, hombre! _ Watch where you point that thing, could end up ruining this-” he pauses to point to his own face. “C’mon, we can’t have that!” Quackity’s voice is shaky and an embarrassingly high pitch, which he doesn’t think helps  _ at all _ because Technoblade has his almost-glowing red eyes on the Omega and is stepping closer to him and Tubbo-

_ Oh shit, Tubbo! _

He shakes his head and waves his hands frantically, “ _ Espere, espere, espere, espere, espere! Hay un niño!  _ A child, man! You want to do this next to a sleeping fucking child?!” He half whispers, half shouts as he gestures to his right. Thankfully, Technoblase sees the still-sleeping toddler and backs down a little, almost embarrassed, though not much. The trident disappears into thin air and he crosses his arms.

“Who the hell are you and where is my brother?” His voice is quiet, which is very considerate and a complete change of personality than what it was a moment ago.

Still a bit shaken, Quackity awkwardly points vaguely in the direction of the living room. “Couch,” He says, and watches the piglin nod once before stiffly walking away. Exactly 30 seconds pass, where Quackity tries to process what just happened, then he quickly unlocks the phone in his hand, sending a series of quick texts to Wilbur.

Big Q:

WIL YOUR FUKCING SEXY BROTHET ALMOST KILED ME!!!

William Smoke:

dude dont call my brother sexy thats weird

and lmao yea i should have told you hes kinda protective

you used tubbo as your defence didnt you

Big Q:

yeah :(

what did he say when he went down there

William Smoke:

asked if phil started taking in homeless kids again then went to get something from the truck

Big Q:

fucker said he was too lazy to go to his truck earlier smh

anD IM NOT HOMELESS >:(

William Smoke:

tell that to him yourself

A defeated sigh makes its way out of Quackity’s lungs, and he finally turns his phone off for the night. As he lays down fully under the covers, he lets Tubbo curl closer to his side. God I’d die for this kid, is the last thought he has before exhaustion catches up to him, and he falls into a dreamless sleep.

  
  


As sunlight casts its burning rays directly into Quackity’s retinas, he thinks to himself,  _ when the hell did my window move? _ He rolls over in a pitiful attempt to escape the universe’s torment, but alas, his own boy torments him with a loud reminder to get up and eat something. Groaning, he sits up, and realizes his window didn’t move, he just forgot where he was. His gaze takes in the pale yellow walls, the desk in the corner, guitar leaning against it. There’s a few pieces of dirty laundry on the carpeted floor, clustered most around a half full basket. A few posters for some bands Quackity doesn’t know are taped to the walls. It’s all very fitting for Wilbur.

Quackity swings his legs off the bed, glancing to the other side to confirm that, yup, Tubbo was already awake and somewhere else in the house. After checking his notifications, he shoves his phone into his pocket and makes his way downstairs to raid the pantry.

Phil is in the kitchen, working on putting the dishes from the sink into the dishwasher, while three pups weave between his legs and wings. The smallest of the three brings his too-sharp fangs to an out of place feather and gives a sharp pull. Phil yelps, wings puffing in surprise as his grandson successfully pulls out a feather.

“Fundy, no! We don’t bite, let alone rip out feathers or fur!” The older Omega lightly scolds, bending down to scoop up the tiny fox hybrid, who giggles as he’s swept up. Phil plucks the feather from his mouth and sticks it in the fur on Fundy’s ear. Quackity laughs when Tubbo and Tommy both decide they also want up, and begin tugging on Phil’s feathers as well. Tubbo even headbutts the leg he has a grip on, and Quackity decides that’s his queue to step in. 

“Hey, chicos! Be nice to the old man, you’re getting his money when he dies!” The two pups still on the floor are lifted up as well, Quackity using his wings to support them both, only straining a little bit. “God, you’re both getting big,” He mumbles, and presses a kiss to Tubbo’s head, then Tommy’s, who gives a delighted “Quacky!” when he realizes it’s the duck hybrid.

“Seems like only yesterday Fundy was born, and it seems like only two days ago it was Tommy and Tubbo,” Phil smiles as Quackity saves him from having to juggle three pups.

“Not in that order, your memory must be failing” The young Omega supplies, and Phil scoffs, amused.

“Call me old all you want, it won’t save you from your own slow decay,” Phil retorts.

“Whatever, do you have any waffles? I’m starving,” He watches Phil point to the freezer, the top third portion of the refrigerator. Quackity sets the pups in his arms down, shooing them towards the living room as he opens the small door and pulls out a box. Apple and cinnamon, nice. A plate is wordlessly handed to him after he sticks two waffles in the toaster, and he waits.

“How long has Tubbs been up?” He asks. Phil hums and looks at the clock on the stove.

“About an hour, he came down when Tommy started screaming about not wanting to wear pants. I already fed him, so he should be fine until you get home. Speaking of, Wilbur is at work, did you need me to drive you home?” The winged man looks at the duck. Quackity still feels bad about crashing in Phil’s house with zero notice, and he struggles to come up with a reason worth turning him down for.

“Er, well, I’d feel bad making you take the pups along for just a twenty minute round trip across town,” He admits, and Phil gives him a reassuring smile.

“It’s really no trouble, Quackity, I don’t mind making sure you and Tubbo are safe,” It’s genuine, but Quackity still feels bad about making Phil leave the house just to drive him home. He’s about to refuse, trying to quickly think of a better excuse, when a third voice enters the conversation.

“I have a few errands to run around town, I could take you home instead,” Quackity startles at Technoblade’s voice behind him, having come down the stairs unnoticed.  _ Well fuck _ , he thinks. The piglin gives him an odd look for just a second, before his face passes back into its usual neutrality. Weird. Quackity thinks of the offer. On one hand, the piglin is already going to be out, possibly close enough to Schlatt’s house that it’s not too far out of his way, and he’s still  _ really  _ attractive. Yet on the other hand, he’s attractive and intimidating enough that Quackity will agree out of thirst and fear, then proceed to be too nervous to say anything the entire drive. Unfortunate;y, Phil is the one that answers for him, noticing his hesitation.

“I think that’s a great idea, Tech! You two can get to know each other a little!” Phil’s voice is forced around a few fake coughs, trying to keep himself from laughing. Again,  _ weird _ . It’s fine, Quackity decides, as he takes his waffles and eats them plain. He relents, and gives his consent for the ride with a shrug. This isn’t the worst scenario to be in, his friend’s brother is just going to drive him and his pack leader’s pup home. That’s all that’ll happen! Quackity relaxes a little.

The kitchen falls into a comfortable silence, only broken by a warning trill Phil aims at his son when the man sees him prepare to drink straight from the carton of milk, and Fundy coos as his uncle ruffles his hair.

Technoblade and Quackity agree to leave in an hour, and Quackity watches as the other goes back upstairs to take a shower. Then Phil starts laughing slightly, trying to hide his face behind his grandson’s large ears. Quackity narrows his eyes at him.

“What, what’s so funny?” He asks, and Phil laughs harder. “Phil! C’mon, man, don’t tell me your dementia is setting in,” Phil shakes his head, choosing to ignore another jab at his age.

“Oh, God, mate, you really didn’t notice?” Quackity shakes his head in confusion, and Phil has to set Fundy in his high-chair before he drops him from hoe hard he starts laughing again. He has to wait for the older Omaga to calm down before he gets his answer.

“Okay, sorry, just- Quackity, the entire time Techno was in here, you were giving courting chirps. He noticed, but I’m not exactly sure if he knows what it means,” Phil explains, and almost starts laughing again and Quackity’s entire face flushes red.

“W- _ What _ ? No, there’s no way I was doing that!” Quackity splutters for a moment and hides behind his wings. How the hell did he not notice himself making those sounds? He feels another wing lay over him, though, and looks up as Phil clicks comfortingly.

“It’s okay, I won’t tell him! I don’t even mind if you want to ask him out, he could use someone like you in his life,” The words are soft, yet embarrassing to acknowledge, though Quackity feels his tension melt from his shoulders when Phil purrs to him. They stay like that for a moment, then Phil speaks again.

“Do you think you’re ready to talk about what happened with Schlatt last night?” The question sticks in his mind for a moment, then Quackity nods, letting Phil pull away, yet he keeps a wing stretched over their heads.

“It wasn’t that much really, his drinking has just been getting worse. I just went into the kitchen, and he was just hunched over the table, crying or- or laughing, I couldn’t tell really. I went to just touch his shoulder but he pushed me to the floor, and then I was out of there. He- he’s never tried to hurt me before, but I wasn't about to let it start, so I took Tubbo and jumped out the window,” Though his voice shakes ever so slightly, Quackity doesn’t cry. It was a scary event to remember, but he’s glad he could talk about it. He feels Phil growl more than he hears it, but doesn’t say anything about it.

“Do you know what triggered his emotional state?” Quackity shakes his head, not recalling anything happening that day, or anything Schlatt may have said to hint that something was wrong. “I’m still open to teaching him a lesson,” Phil tries to lighten the topic a little, and Quackity can’t help but laugh a little.

“Hm, I think we’ll wait on that. What did you mean by him causing enough problems, though?” Quackity remembers the statement from when he first arrived last night, and now it’s Phils turn to shake his head.

“It’s not my place to say, really. I promised I wouldn’t,” His voice is a little sad, and Quackity doesn’t push it, just accepts the final hug he receives before the two birds separate.

Phil goes back to taking care of the pups, while Quackity goes back up to Wilbur’s room and lays down, phone in hand while he mindlessly scrolls through his socials. It doesn’t take his mind completely off of the conversation, but he supposes he can deal with it. And if Phil doesn’t mind him chasing after his son, then the only real problem is Schlatt. Who knows how the ram hybrid will react to his pack Omega mating with somebody else? The thought shouldn’t be concerning, since Quackity wasn’t even mated to the ram in the first place, but Schlatt could be possessive, and that wasn’t something he really wanted to deal with, considering the amount of times he’s had sex with the ram. But that’s all a problem for later, he supposes.

Before he knows it, an hour has passed. The door to Wilbur’s room cracks open a little, and Quackity doesn’t even look up.

“Hour’s up, let’s go,” It’s blunt, a little demanding, but Quackity doesn’t mind as he stands and pulls his shoes on. He follows Technoblade down the stairs and to the front door. The Omega leans into the living room, where Tubbo and Tommy have started playing some game with their own rules that Quackity can’t even begin to figure out.

“Tubbo! Time to go  _ hombrecito! _ ” The little ram looks up at him, and whines a little.

“Don’ wanna weave Tommy!” He says, and Tommy begins pouting at the duck hybrid as well, clinging to his friend’s arm as he gives a stubborn “My Tubbo.” It’s rather adorable, and it hurts to have to separate them, but Quackity sighs and uses his “listen-to-me-now-or-no-ice-cream-after-dinner” voice.

“Tubbo, we gotta get back to your dad! He misses you!” This is enough to get Tubbo to reluctantly pull away from Tommy, whispering “I be back soon!” rather loudly while he follows Quackity to the truck outside. The Omega lifts the pup into his lap, since there’s not even a car seat, and Technoblase twists the keys in the ignition, the truck starting with a loud roar of the engine.

“Alright,” Technoblade huffs, “Tell me where we’re going.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> can you tell ive never been around anyone younger than 16, what the fuck is a toddler?  
> uhh sorry if this seems rushed! im posting this using my phones hotspot be my wifi turns off at night hhhh  
> if theres any typos or grammar mistakes, please tell me, it finished this at 1am lol


End file.
